Putting the Pieces Back Together
by Earendil Eldar
Summary: Follow-up to "Picking Up the Pieces." Jack's still there, helping Ianto get through his post-"Cyberwoman" challenges.


Ianto's phone was blinking at him, telling him he had a message, but he just didn't want to look at it. It was probably just Jack anyway, but there was that nagging worry that somebody, somewhere was mad at him for something. He had no idea what they could be mad at him for, because he hadn't left the flat in over a week and hadn't communicated with anyone – other than Jack – for just as long.

Of course, his lack of communication was likely enough to make someone out there mad at him, which made him even less eager to look at his messages. Instead, he just pushed the phone away and curled up in the corner of the couch and listened to the storm rolling in around the bay until he nodded off.

Next thing he knew, Ianto was woken by the knock at his door. Part of him didn't really want to answer it, but the part of him that knew it was Jack craved that contact. Ianto got up and opened the door to let Jack in.

"Hey, Ianto. How you feeling tonight? I sent a message but didn't hear anything back. Hope pizza and beer is alright." Jack was always something of a whirlwind when he came in.

"Yeah," Ianto said as Jack dropped the pizza box on the counter and pulled a bottle out of both of his pockets. "I just kind of nodded off earlier," he apologized weakly.

Jack went for the utensils drawer and produced a bottle opener. Prying off the caps, he passed one to Ianto. "Before or after you saw you had a message?"

Ianto was pretty sure he'd balk at anyone else questioning him that directly. He still hated to admit it to Jack, but he didn't really feel eaten up with guilt like he thought he should. "After. I just… is everyone angry at me? Because it sure feels like they are, or ought to be."

Jack stepped over and put a hand on Ianto's arm. "I'm not angry. And I don't know of anyone who is. Not to psychoanalyze or anything – and believe me, Freud was _really_ crazy about me – anyway, I think that's sort of a projection. Like I said, I don't know of anyone mad at you, and no one's likely to be sending you text messages or emails or leaving voicemails telling you how much they dislike you."

"I know that. Realistically, I know it, Jack. But there's a part of me that's just… scared. Like expecting to find a monster in the airing cupboard when you know it's just the pipes rattling. Though, given this is Cardiff, the monster _is_ a distinct possibility."

Jack squeezed Ianto's arm reassuringly. "We handle monsters together around here. And, incidentally, I know what it's like to be afraid of those monsters. I've run from them, I've hidden. Usually because I was sure I _couldn't_ face them and fight. Until I remembered that I have faced them, or others like them. And so have you. Want to grab your phone and we'll face them together?"

Ianto laughed shortly. "What? You're going to help me go through my messages?"

"Yes," Jack said seriously. "If it's overwhelming to you, then yeah. Sometimes a little support is all it takes, not feeling alone with something. That's why I'm here." Jack helped himself to a couple of plates from Ianto's cupboard and passed one with a slice of pizza to Ianto.

It had been a few weeks since everything that had happened that terrible day in the Hub. Ever since Jack came around that first time and _hadn't_ retconned him, Ianto had starting seeing a very different side to Jack. He wasn't just the boss-man or leader or Captain or cowboy or cocky philanderer. When Jack stopped by for a visit every few nights, usually with a couple beers and takeaway, he was in the role of a friend and confidante, a mentor, a confessor, a sounding board… and something Ianto couldn't quite define.

Jack hadn't once pushed or prodded or told Ianto to "man up." He hadn't once made fun of anything Ianto told him or made him feel in any way weak, incapable, _less_. For every issue Ianto brought up, Jack talked about something similar he'd been through… without making Ianto feel like he was being one-upped or out-matched. Jack understood, he'd been there, been through it too.

So when Ianto sat with him on the couch, feeling ridiculous, but better, about going through his emails and text messages – mostly from Rhi about the kids, and one from the dry cleaner to ask if he'd been out of town that made Jack laugh – a part of him began to wonder how long Jack would keep doing this. He enjoyed it and didn't want it to stop, but he didn't want it to always be about some problem he was facing either.

"I really should have brought more of these," Jack said, finishing off his beer. "I could always pop out and get a few, or we could go for a couple, if you're up for it."

Ianto's first inclination was to turn down the offer of going out anywhere. Something stopped him, though. It had looked like a nice day out earlier, before it rained, and Ianto wished he'd gone out to enjoy the weather, even without anything "to do." Maybe getting out of the flat was a good idea. And anyway, it was kind of a victory that the "monster" in the messages really had just been rattling pipes.

"Alright. Maybe just the one?"

"Sure," Jack agreed quickly. "Any place close you recommend?"

"Pub round the corner will do, if you don't want anything special."

"Alright with me."

"Ok. Maybe I should change."

"If you want to, but I think you look fine," Jack said, barely managing to keep from looking Ianto over. Jeans were a big improvement over the trackies Ianto had been favoring lately, though Jack was really looking forward to seeing Ianto back in a suit before long.

Ianto hesitated a moment but trusted Jack's judgment of appearance. "Alright, I'll just wash my face."

Later that evening when he got back, Ianto felt better than he had in weeks. He and Jack had just sat at the pub and chatted like two completely normal people. Jack complained about being busy at work – without mentioning weevils or alien tech or UNIT – and Ianto moaned about daytime telly and changeable Welsh weather.

Ianto dropped his keys on the coffee table, ready to turn in for the night, then did a double-take. His Torchwood access card sat next to his phone, which was blinking a message. Ianto picked up the phone, fighting off the urge to just hide it under the couch, and checked the message, from Jack:

_Whenever you're ready._


End file.
